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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616753">Free From Our Shackles, Our Chains</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestroyedConscience/pseuds/DestroyedConscience'>DestroyedConscience</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Last three characters are brief, Pre-Final War, Respawns are a Thing, Runaway AU, Temporary Character Death, They may not be brothers in blood but they are in what matters, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit Friendship, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit Run Away, Wilbur isn't evil but he is not mentally stable at all</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:15:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestroyedConscience/pseuds/DestroyedConscience</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“We’d have everything we care about.” Tubbo nods, an odd feeling settling low in his chest. “And we’d never have-” He cuts himself off, tongue heavy in his mouth as he looks out at the expanse of land in front of them, eyes gazing upon the horizon, the light blue of the sky meeting the dark green of leaves. The words cling to his throat like honey and a glance to Tommy tells him the other knows what he was going to say.</p>
  <p>
    <i>We’d never have to fight again.</i>
  </p>
</blockquote>In which Wilbur was willing to lose both his nation and his mind, but never stopped to wonder if that would mean losing his boys, as well.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Run Boy Run</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Free From Our Shackles, Our Chains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>first work in the fandom kinda nervous o_o i've been watching for a while but only decided to actually write a work for it now lol, i hope i did okay with the characterisations!!! </p>
<p>title is taken from Elysium by Bear's Den, i thought the song fit well :p</p>
<p>this was written just after the stream in which tubbo and tommy talk about leaving, so tubbo has the real discs rather than fakes because that was the impression i was under lol. </p>
<p>hope you like, i had fun writing this :3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Wilbur is changing and Tubbo doesn’t think he likes it. He decides this when he sits with Tommy outside of the embassy as Blocks chimes in the air between them and the other tells him of their leader’s plans. He decides this when his friend’s voice grows in volume, yanking the disc out of the jukebox so only his panicked words are left ringing between them and shoving said disc into Tubbo’s hands when the panic turns out to be infectious and leads to paranoia on his part.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the vinyl is in his hands, all worries are eased and Tubbo finds himself wondering why he would ever think Tommy to ever hold anything but his best interests at heart, no matter how abrasive or rude he can be. This is quickly overshadowed by the dawning realisation that with this addition to his disc collection, Tubbo is now the holder of all three original music discs. When he tells Tommy of this, the other boy looks out across the cliff once more, his entire body seeming to sag down into the hard wood of the bench. He looks oddly pensive, expression tight in a way that’s different from the usual way it pinches if he’s irritated. He’s silent and Tubbo doesn’t speak because as suffocating as the silence is, something about it tells him that if the next words spoken aren’t from Tommy then the blond will never tell him what it is he’s so meticulously thinking about saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s nothing stopping us.” He finally says, and the bluntness and finality of the statement are both underwhelming and all encompassing at the same time. Tubbo merely hums in question, urging him to continue as he finally walks back from where he had been placing the disc into his enderchest and sits next to Tommy. “From running away. We’d have everything we ever wanted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’d have everything we care about.” Tubbo nods, an odd feeling settling low in his chest. “And we’d never have-” He cuts himself off, tongue heavy in his mouth as he looks out at the expanse of land in front of them, eyes gazing upon the horizon, the light blue of the sky meeting the dark green of leaves. The words cling to his throat like honey and a glance to Tommy tells him the other knows what he was going to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We’d never have to fight again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s with a shake of both their heads, almost in complete unison, that they expel the thoughts, Tommy even going one step further in verbal affirmations of their loyalty to the home L’Manburg once was and Tubbo finds himself nodding and humming in agreement. His friend gets up from the bench, beginning to walk down the Prime Path and Tubbo trails behind him, agreeing and nodding whenever the conversation calls for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They don’t speak of it again over the next few days of planning, one of them planning festivities and the other a way to stop the annihilation of everything they had fought for.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The festival comes and everything goes to shit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo looks at Techno and blinks back tears that burn his eyes and make his nose sting, the man’s mouth as tight of a line as it can be with the tusks jutting from his lower jaw. He looks vaguely sick, Tubbo is sure he looks no better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His whispers to Wilbur are met with reassurances and then nothing at all and despite the man telling him to stay calm, that he was safe, when he looks up at their hiding spot and sees the look on Tommy’s face and the crossbow clenched in clearly shaking hands he can’t help but feel anything but.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo,” Techno starts, voice strained and thick with what can’t be anything other than remorse and it makes Tubbo’s heart race. “Tubbo, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Technoblade-” He whimpers out, fighting back the urge to shy backwards when the other loads his crossbow, he would only end up bumping into the concrete of his containment and he doesn’t want it to be confirmed of just how trapped he is; the box is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he knows if he’s reminded of this then the tears brimming his eyes will finally fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno continues on as though he hadn’t heard him, perhaps he hadn’t, the crowd below them has risen in volume at seeing the weapon being loaded. If he listens hard enough he can pinpoint who’s saying what, can hear Niki’s desperate shrieks and Quackity’s attempts of diffusing the situation, panic growing in his voice as he does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make this as painless, and as colourful, as possible.” He raises the crossbow to eye-level, his posture as he takes aim as poised and relaxed as ever. Only Tubbo can see how his finger trembles on the trigger. Rather than meet the pink-haired man’s eyes, Tubbo’s eyes dart upwards again, seeking out Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their eyes meet, brown staring into blue, and suddenly there’s bright lights - red, white, and blue-. There’s a loud bang, too, followed by more rounds of the same explosive sound but Tubbo ears find themselves honing in on something else as the ringing fades and his eyes slide shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“TUBBO!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo wakes up to stone walls and throws himself out of his bed so fast he tangles himself in the sheets, stumbling but not stopping, leaving them sprawled out on the floor in a heap when they finally untangle from his legs. He’s running before he can even register the dull sting in his chest and even when the light jabbing settles in, his pace only quickens upon hearing a whisper in his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Meet at the tunnels.</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like a millennia has passed when he finally sees a familiar red-and-white shirt. The walls echo their thundering footfalls as both boys hurtle towards each other, not slowing until their bodies collide. Tommy clutches him to his chest, a hand splayed between shoulder blades, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart against his palm. Tubbo can feel Tommy’s own heartbeat hammering against his cheek from where his face rests against him, he burrows further into him and Tommy’s hold tightens in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Tommy’s voice is tight, the words rushed and Tubbo nods against him, the fabric of his shirt scratching against his cheek. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and it takes several seconds to get his vocal chords to cooperate with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” He reassures, a glance up shows Tommy’s head tilted to the ceiling, eyes staring yet unseeing and expression so relieved that he can’t be doing anything other than thanking the Sky Gods, “Wilbur said he wasn’t gonna hurt me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The relieved look on Tommy’s face leaves, replaced with something so helpless and lost that Tubbo finds himself regretting saying anything at all. “We thought he was on our side, I’m so sorry, Tubbo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo doesn’t respond, just squeezes Tommy tighter for a second before pulling away. “C’mon, we’ve gotta go help.” Tommy nods and gives him a weapon and armour, nothing much but enough. As they head up to the surface, Tubbo hears him whisper behind his hand but he pretends he didn’t with a grimace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur, where’s the button?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s obvious they’re outnumbered, they hold no chance of winning in a head on attack and Wilbur has managed to misplace the button so they have no choice but to retreat. As they run through the tunnels, the reason for this entire mess, Tubbo realises Niki is now with them and finds he’s glad. The woman’s presence has always been welcome, a soft but strong force that brings a sense of calming protection. Maybe she could talk some sense into Wilbur who’s raving as they run for their lives, loud cackles bouncing off the walls. He’s relishing in the chaos that has been brought by their plan going sideways, so much so that even Techno gives him a side-eye when they begin to slow, coming to the entrance of Pogtopia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they come to a stop, finally back at base, Tommy rages and screams so loud his face turns as red as his shirt, getting up in Techno’s face until Tubbo drags him back with hands on his upper arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> being helpful, he is being the absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposite</span>
  </em>
  <span> of helpful and Tubbo thinks he might actually punch him if he looks at Tommy with that manic, excited expression one more time. He tries to interject with reassurances that he understands why Techno had to do what he did but it seems to backfire as Tommy assumes he’s trying to downplay his feelings to avoid conflict and gets angrier on his behalf and Wilbur latches onto his forgiveness to paint Tommy as an immature child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants to punch Wilbur.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can do nothing but sigh inwardly as Tommy and Techno agree to fight out their issues in ‘The Pit’, which is literally just a hole in the wall that Wilbur sloppily scraped out as Tommy was engaged in a very one-sided argument with the hybrid. Wilbur talks about Tommy to Tubbo as though he isn’t right there below them, whispering excitedly about how he was never going to be president, not truly, and Tubbo considers pushing him into The Pit for the entirety of his rambling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy isn’t a terrible fighter, but he is angry to the point of sloppiness while Techno is experienced in compartmentalising in the face of a fight and Tommy may be tall but Techno is strong from the piglin blood that flows through his veins and there’s no chance for him, really. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sight of his best friend falling to the floor, face bloodied beyond recognition, and exploding in a familiar puff of smoke is almost enough to make him want to throw up. If he had eaten anything in the past few hours he probably would have but his digestive system was wiped clean after his earlier respawn so he settles for walking back towards Tommy’s bed to wait for his friend’s reappearance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Tommy pops back into existence all evidence of his death is gone aside from some jagged markings on his face that will fade in the coming days so long as he doesn’t die again and reset the process. Tubbo is sure his own chest isn’t looking any better but the idea of inspecting the damage has him suppressing a shudder. Tommy doesn’t move from his bed, pushing himself up to sit on the edge but not standing. He sits with elbows leaning on his legs and doesn’t look at Tubbo when he moves to sit next to him. The tufts of his blond hair obscure his face as he ducks his head down, staring pointedly at the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t beat him for you,” The taller teen mutters, bitterness bleeding into his tone but there’s a hint of shame there, too. “After how much he hurt you, and I watched- </span>
  <em>
    <span>let </span>
  </em>
  <span>it happen, I couldn’t even do that. I couldn’t even make it right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make it right,” Tubbo says, less of an attempt at comfort and more so just a statement, “There wasn’t any reason to make it right. I know Techno had no choice, and I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that, too.” And it was true, Tubbo knows Tommy like the back of his hand and Tommy knows him just as well. Which is why Tubbo knows Tommy is lashing out, that he had felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>helpless</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the festival and him raging at Techno was merely an attempt at gaining some semblance of control over the situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo just wished he didn’t have to see his best friend get beaten to death because of that attempt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy leaves to talk to Wilbur and Tubbo is alone. He purses his lips, inhaling shakily as he rubs a hand on his sternum, where burns reside but will fade in days to come. The hand drops to his side and he clenches and unclenches it restlessly before his eyes fall upon the enderchest just a few steps away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stones littering the ground dig into his knees through his trousers as he rifles through the chest but he pays the jabs of pain no mind, he has been through far worse today, the burns once again remind him. His suit jacket gets caught on the side of the chest, the buttons near the cuffs catching, and he gives a frustrated snarl - something so out of character that if he weren’t so suddenly infuriated he would gape like a fish- before violently yanking the offending garment off. He tosses it across the room and it makes a dull, light thud as it hits the wall. Upper body now donned only in his white dress shirt and new tie, he goes back to rifling through the chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With shaking hands, he pulls out Mellohi.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s quiet outside, the only sounds coming from the horses and the jukebox Tubbo lugged outside. Mellohi plays, notes familiar and a welcome distraction for him to fixate on. He swings his feet from the branch he’s perched on, leaves swaying in the breeze as he watches the sky and doesn’t allow himself to think, not yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo?” Tommy is on the ground below him, looking up with an arm shielding his squinted eyes. Tubbo doesn’t respond but nods his head towards the space beside him. Tommy climbs the tree easily, long limbs pulling himself up to the branch Tubbo occupies in much less time than it had taken Tubbo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t turn to look at Tommy as he sits down next to him, and Tommy doesn’t look at him either. The sun lowers and the sky bleeds into a rich red over trees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s nothing stopping us.” He murmurs, the same words that had been spoken to him only days ago pouring from his own lips like ichor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Tommy replies, voice uncharacteristically soft and Tubbo turns to finally look at him only to find he has done the same. His friend’s eyes are tired and contemplative but not conflicted and the spark of headstrong determination present in his face ignites a twin feeling in Tubbo. “There really isn’t, is there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The final notes of Mellohi ring out and they are left in silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t as hard to gather their things as they would have thought, even easier so when Niki finds them as Tubbo is rooting through a chest while Tommy hisses at him to hurry up. Perhaps Tubbo shouldn’t have started hissing back at him and triggered a harshly-whispered squabble when they were trying to be quiet, but it proves to not have been too bad of a mistake as Niki’s shocked expression smoothes out into one of understanding. Having frozen upon realising they had been found, they only untense after she comes to a stop before them and rummages through the bag that is ever-present on her hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When healing potions are held out in slightly-shaking hands, Tubbo swallows but thanks her with quiet words as Tommy meets the woman’s eyes and gives a nod of his own thanks. She  runs her hand through Tubbo’s hair and returns the nod with one of her own and a look on her face that Tubbo can’t decipher immediately in the dark before hurrying off to her bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only when they’re outside of Pogtopia and making sure Spots’ saddle is secure that Tubbo realises what that look was: a mix of longing and relief. He doesn’t give himself time to think about the implications of such a look, hoisting himself up onto the saddle behind Tommy, instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still don’t see why you’re the one holding the reins,” He grumbles out as he adjusts himself, a hand coming up to grip at the blond’s cloak - it’s going to be a cold night and they aren’t going to be able to stop riding until tomorrow, they’ll need all the warmth they can get. “It’s literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> horse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I’m Tommy fucking Innit,” His friend replies in that monotonous yet unbelievably self-important way of his, “And you are my bitch. So get used to riding bitch, bitch.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo snorts at that, “Yeah, alright.” Glancing behind him to see the entrance to their now-past base fade from view, he isn’t sure whether the feeling he gets in his chest when he thinks of who they’re leaving behind is good or bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woods make way for open grasslands and Tommy hurries Spots into a quick trot to avoid mobs and get out of the open faster. There’s a distinct lack of jumping in comparison to when they were surrounded by forestry, the ground mostly flat now, unlike the risen roots that had to be avoided only minutes prior. The steady, light jolting of Spots as they ride becomes an almost soothing rocking and Tubbo allows himself to simply stare at their surroundings and let his mind go blank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re gonna fall asleep, at least hold onto me so you don’t topple over,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the quiet that has fallen over them and it’s only then that Tubbo realises he’s been nodding off for the past few minutes. He blinks blearily at the back of his friend’s hooded head, his own dipping down his face and obscuring his vision slightly, and wonders how he even noticed he was drifting off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems this whole ‘running away together’ schtick has strengthened their bond to a telepathic degree, as Tommy seems to know exactly what he was thinking and scoffs. “The fact you haven’t noticed me looking behind my shoulder every two minutes shows me just how tired you are.” He can practically hear the eyeroll accompanying the words. The next words are softer, “Go to sleep, Tubbo, I’ll wake you up in a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Tubbo realises that </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> L’Manburg was not a place, nor was it a people, but a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The realisation does not come as a shock, there is no jolt that runs through him. Rather, it rolls through his mind lazily, like sludge, and he inches forward on the saddle until he can rest his cheek against dark fabric and closes his eyes to the steady lull of trotting hooves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments + kudos are always super appreciated! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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